


To Honour Thy Husband

by BannedBloodOranges



Series: Before The Rains [1]
Category: Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Baking, Biblical References, Crossover, Difficult to Tag This, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hidden Corruption, Implied background relationships, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Married Life, Pre war au, Secrets, alternative universe, political corruption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BannedBloodOranges/pseuds/BannedBloodOranges
Summary: In boring suburbia, Daniel (and his dog) wait for a long due reunion with his new husband, Commissioner Joshua Graham, after a gruelling trial concerning his lifelong friend, Edward Sallow.The Courier, as per usual, eats all the cake and sows chaotic tidings.
Relationships: Daniel/Joshua Graham (Fallout), Male Courier/Joshua Graham, Male Courier/Stanley Carrington
Series: Before The Rains [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115000
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	To Honour Thy Husband

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabenherz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabenherz/gifts).



> Non-profit fun only.
> 
> A fic birthed from a brainchild/alternative universe devised by me and Rabenhanz. As is, her lovely chaotic courier (Arthur) is all hers and I am merely borrowing him! Also includes a background reference to my female SS (Poppy Dickens.)

Joshua had been working late the last few weeks, not even braving the drive home most days. That was the issue with the suburbs, Daniel had tried to tell him when they'd sat in the state agent's office with the terrified clerk and Joshua with his arms crossed and his finger tapping on the printed home with the white fence and large garden and double bedroom with the ensuite. It was too far from work. They could get an apartment in the city, be close to the missions, to friends alike. True, they had no family in Boston, as Utah was hundreds of miles west, but Joshua had friends. Arthur was an eccentric choice, but Joshua had known him for years and he'd even come to their wedding. Stanley was an acidic atheist who still did charity work for sick people in the missions without asking for a dime. And of course, Bill Calhoun, Joshua's oldest and dearest friend (which always gave Daniel a shameful pinch in his stomach.)

He didn't mention Edward. Neither did Joshua, who with a wrinkle in his brow, had ignored his suggestions and declared the house was safe for Daniel. Safe? Safe from what? But Joshua signed the paperwork, his and Daniel's name, side by side as Daniel had promised a year earlier. Daniel had to agree that the house was beautiful, that the streets were safe and green and that everything always arrived on time. It didn't matter that he might have missed the city, preferred being among the people they'd claimed to uplift as opposed to the gated community where even the milkman had to take out background checks. Daniel was a folksy sort, liked the clutch of family, of noise and children and friendly car pollution. His small town in Utah was a stretch of road with a cinema within fifteen miles and a single town hall where they held weddings, christenings and funerals.

Joshua had compromised with the dog. Some children ran down the street to the local school. The people were friendly, wishing him good morning and goodnight. Pleasant, but distant, nervous to hold his gaze for more than a second. Joshua and he were the only single-sex couple in the street and Joshua was still Commissioner Graham, so maybe that explained it. 

Daniel did not consider himself a homemaker, exactly, but the house had been modern and shiny and frighteningly bare. He hadn't hauled much from Utah when he arrived in Boston. Had not expected to stay, so he hadn't even packed for winter. It had been a shock to have to shop for clothing in thrift stores. Even more of a shock when the Elder of the Missions and resident Chief Inspector of Boston MPD had waited patiently outside his hostel door to invite him to dinner like he had been waiting for Daniel his entire life.

So, he baked like his mother did when he ran wild outside the windows, donated food and money to the shelters and walked Moses in the manicured park with the seasons changing all around him. He received samplers from home by his surviving relatives, hung them on the walls with wooden spoons and framed prayers. Joshua came home to a cooked meal every night, more to relieve Daniel's boredom than any attempt to feed him as a dutiful husband, but Joshua's eyebrows had risen and the creases around his mouth had faded. So, Daniel did it for that, too. Because he loved Joshua, loved him enough to give up Utah and Boston and people who offered conversation past a mumbled pleasantry.

October had finally settled in after a balmy September. The fruit trees in their yard bloomed apple and pears, the leaves crinkling in amber and red and bleeding out over the grass. Earlier that day Moses had snuffled the leaf piles Daniel had raked, the dew and rot clinging to the curls of his monochrome coat and leaving the leaves scattered anew.

Daniel had sighed, piled the muddy pooch in the bath and set the taps running, the hot water spiralling out from under the bathroom door. If Joshua saw the mess, then Moses would be in trouble and banned once again to his sad space under the kitchen sink. 

But as the afternoon drew on, the clouds darkened, and rain drowned the street, soddening leaves and mud into the muck that stifled the gutters and flooded the roads.

Daniel lit the log fire in the lounge and Moses settled his huge hairy body in front of it. Eager to keep the dog out of the kitchen, Daniel returned to dinner. Funeral Potatoes and Raspberry Eclair Cake, two Mormon classics. The smells filled the kitchen, prompting Moses to whine through the dog gate. Daniel was drying his hands in the sink when he heard the jingle of keys in the door, the sound of muddy feet scrapped along the porch. Moses quietened to a soft keen.

"Daniel." Joshua stood dripping in the doorway. His black hair stuck to his face like an oil slick, curved into his white cheeks. "You made dinner."

"Yes, and it's ready." Daniel slipped on his oven gloves. "I suggest you dry up first. The towels are in the airing closet, first shelf."

"Ah." He ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose that would be wise."

Daniel set out the matching plates. Joshua liked such details. Moses scraped a paw on the gate, pushing his nose through the bars. 

"You could make the devil blush, with those eyes," Daniel chuckled, rubbing the huge head. "Be still. You've had your dinner."

Moses sneezed in displeasure, nudging his black buttoned nose under the latch. Daniel sighed and returned to the oven. In the next adjacent bathroom, he could hear the running of a tap and raiding of the clean laundry basket. 

"Hard day?" He called out, retrieving the bake from the top shelf of the oven. "I've been busy on the phone to the missions. We have got severe food shortages. All we had left was tinned food and water..."

He smelt the delicious hash brown bake and the tinned chocolate cake with visible guilt. 

"...I sent another donation from our savings. Enough to give some proper nutrition and raise morale for the people there. God provides, but sometimes a hot meal with fresh ingredients can make a difference. I thought..."

"Hm." Warm arms enveloped Daniel's waist. The city clung to Joshua, making Daniel gasp with the potency of it, the gasoline and cigarettes and smoke, those tantalising tastes of life he yearned for. Joshua was uncharacteristically forward; it had been three days, after all. The nuzzling of his neck and the weight pushed into his groin did not take a degree in physics to understand the signs. What Daniel, in all his cooking and charity work, had been missing. He was a young man, after all. He was married, it was allowed. "I should say. This looks delicious."

Daniel turned slowly to kiss Joshua's face, to press his thumbs lightly on the scars sleeplessness had bruised under his husband's eyes. Joshua smiled at him, one of the rare smiles that softened the corners of his lips and made him look kindly stern. A towel sat on his shoulders, revealing gently ruffled hair and pink on his cheeks from where he'd slapped on hot water and soap. He was wearing the black sweater Arthur had brought him a Christmas ago, with _God Bless_ on the back. (According to Stanley, he had picked out the less than appropriate motto beneath. Joshua was none the wiser, or so he had said.)

He kissed him again. An ache filled Daniel's chest, rising to his throat and eyes, and it had been a long time, in the empty house with just Moses and baking he couldn't share with a family so far away.

"Joshua." He whispered against his mouth, for Joshua was slipping his hands up and under Daniel's shirt, teasing the skin there. "It's getting cold."

Joshua pulled away, finally, and expectantly took a seat.

"This is most welcome, Daniel." He didn't mention the childhood potato dish, but the gleam in his eyes said it all. "I'm starving."

"Eat." Daniel served their plates generously and sat himself down. "But first, grace. As always."

"Of course." Joshua closed his eyes, as did Daniel. For a moment, there was quiet, except for Moses's whines and Joshua's low, comforting voice, his hand squeezing Daniel's thigh. After they both closed the prayer, Joshua cut into his potatoes, and Daniel took pleasure in the savouring of it. 

"How was work?" Daniel poured them a glass of apple juice. Fresh, from the tree outside. "I switched on the radio, but I didn't hear anything."

The "anything" was the subject of Edward Sallow's trial, but he didn't want to spoil dinner. Joshua did not flinch.

"It is a waste of resources." He said between swallows. "The outcome is evident. Miss Dickens will attempt, as she has done before. The result will the same."

It was clear that from Joshua's tone, that this was the closing of that particular discussion. They finished dinner in companionable quiet, Joshua uncharacteristically having seconds of both his main meal and dessert.

Usually, the routines were that after dinner Joshua would take his newspaper into the lounge where Daniel would read, and they would both listen to the radio with Moses over their feet. But whatever fever Joshua had brought home with him hadn't slacked with his appetite. Daniel had barely put the plates away before the stalk of Joshua's stare had driven him upstairs, with Moses left snoozing by the fire and chewing on a discarded shoe.

"Joshua!" Daniel could only gasp as Joshua stumbled him into the bedroom. They had left a paper trail of clothes up the staircase. He could hear Moses padding quizzically downstairs, maybe nosing Arthur's obnoxious discarded jumper. Joshua, silent, looked him straight in the eye and slammed the door behind him with his foot. 

It was as if the bed rose to meet them, to cradle their bodies and swallow Daniel back into the sheets. Joshua's hands crushed on Daniel's wrists, twisting him on his side and throwing a leg over his shoulder. Joshua's mouth - a preacher's mouth, Daniel thought, all the words crammed in his mind messy and shameful - swallowed him down to the hilt and he almost finished, there and then, for it had been three weeks since they had done this and he knew how Joshua hated him taking care of it himself, had snarled like a beast when he had caught Daniel and fucked him sore in the shower as if to punish him.

"No." Joshua pulled out and dropped him back on the bed, wiping the corners of his mouth. Daniel swore and covered his face with his elbow. "Don't you dare. Not yet."

"Rich of you to say," Daniel bit back. "I've been here alone for three weeks." 

"I trust you have been satisfied?" Joshua ran a hand through his hair. It was growing thick, piled back against his fingers. He began to unfasten his belt. Daniel's breath became ragged, short. "You have company."

"Alone." If this were part of Joshua's game, he could play. "While you play in the big city with your friends. Bill, Edward..." Joshua tilted back his head, musing, but with a clear warning in his eyes. Daniel smirked, nervous. "...Arthur."

That did it.

The room was upturned. Joshua forced Daniel's face into the bed, his fist bound up in his hair. The belt secured his wrists painfully behind his back, causing all the muscles to creak if he tried to turn. (Joshua had once mused about handcuffs over breakfast, about how an effective deterrent they were. He liked the bruises they left, he described smoothly to Daniel over his protein smoothie, his fingers stroking the swelling seam of Daniel's jeans. So, you can see where the guilt stays, where the law has lain its mark.) 

"Should I bring him here?" Joshua shoved a knee between Daniel's legs, spreading them. "Have him take you? Hard, so I can watch, and maybe, after he is done, I too can take my fill of him, and make you observe?"

The image inflated in Daniel's mind. Arthur was a sinful man, but also a strange and stunning one. He had seduced Joshua years ago before modern life had sunk its teeth into the dutiful boy from Utah; before violence and Edward and law took place of their mutual God. Arthur had caught Daniel looking at him one day outside Joshua's work. He had lazily plucked a flower from a nearby seller and tucked it behind Daniel's ear.

"It's okay, honey." He had said. "All the boys look at me. You can do so free of charge."

He was distracted by the memory, by the charcoal coated around Arthur's aquamarine eyes and that impossible mouth, occupying the neutral area between a smirk and a smile, and how he had sidled off laughing as Daniel fished in his pocket for a dime to pay the flower vendor. How Joshua had met him halfway home with a shade of affection in his face and told him lightly of a story of a lost canoe in Utah.

Joshua's growl rumbled like thunder and the spank on his thigh stung like a bee sting. Daniel's gasp almost resembled a sob, and he hitched his hips against the bed, desperate for friction.

"No." Joshua rolled Daniel on his back. The late afternoon sun bleached Joshua's shoulders in boozy orange. He grinned like a tiger; teeth curled up to his ears. "I see you like that idea. You entertain it, in bed with your husband, ordained before God? That is shameful, Daniel."

The rumble of Joshua's voice seemed to crawl into every part of Daniel and stay there. He opened his mouth to speak and cried instead for Joshua's fingers pushed inside him, slick with lotion and semen. 

"Would you rather this was him?" Joshua was falling into that side of himself that only came creeping out in the dark hours between Daniel and himself, in the four walls above the lounge with the radio and the dog and the dishwasher rattling the plates clean. "Opening you up like a virgin? Feeling how tense you are, how expectant, to receive him into yourself like an offering?"

He leant in close, kissing Daniel's cheek.

"And..." He continued. "What if I was him? What would I say, what would I do?"

He languidly stroked Daniel's trembling stomach.

"Tell me," He urged, almost gentle. "Tell me."

"I..." The stimulation had tears running down Daniel's face. "He would...He'd -"

"Yes?"

"He'd be gentle." Daniel fought out a whisper. "He'd make me feel good."

"Oh?" Joshua laid beside Daniel, fingering him deeper. Joshua had trained himself well, knew exactly where to push, when to hold back and have Daniel weep for it. "Do you deserve to feel good, Daniel?"

Oh god.

Daniel pressed away from the touch. He was on fire, his skin hot, perspiration mounting on his belly. Joshua's brow tensed and the fingers pushed deep enough to send him flailing off the bed.

"Answer me." He demanded, softly. "Answer me, and I might be generous."

"J-Joshua...!"

"Now..." Joshua stroked Daniel's head, fluffing the curls grown wild around his face. He hadn't cut his hair in the city-style, liked the soft wave of the country boy. Joshua had surprisingly tolerated it. "Do you deserve it, Daniel? After dreaming of another man in the wedding bed? Of committing adultery in the cavern of your mind? I merely have to mention it, and oh..." He closed his hand slowly around Daniel's erection, running his thumb back and forth across the vein. "...and you respond like a trained animal. Do you think you deserve to feel good?"

Daniel shook his head. His nose was running badly, all he could taste was stale and strange and the heat in his body was packing up. At times like this, the game blurred. 

"No?" Joshua feigned surprise. He closed his eyes, and with a deep sigh, sagely smiled, as if they had just conducted absolution. "Thank you for your honesty, Daniel." 

Tears itched Daniel's eyelashes. Joshua tutted, the bed creaking as he reached under the bed.

The first snap of the belt made him yelp, a crack across his chest and thigh. It didn't linger enough for the impact to bruise, but enough for the skin to sting. Joshua reared above him with his soft tiger smile and wound the large buckled black belt around his knuckles.

Daniel's stomach was next, the buckle catching the midriff and streaking blood across his belly. Joshua rolled him over, lightly beating his thighs, calves and buttocks. Sweat dampened his bare chest and back, his blue eyes mooning down at Daniel with hunger and love, the hand held steady with every inch of his control. The sight of Daniel's blood had excited him, only encouraged the faint pink zigzags of his work that Daniel will hide tomorrow under long-sleeved shirts and high-necked collars. 

He kept going until Daniel was certain his skin would split, the pain whipping away at the pleasure until the raw burn was all he could feel. The sun had set, and the moon was a timid silver under the blinds, masking everything under a shadow.

"Stop!" He begged. Below, Moses let out a worried bark and paced the corridor. "I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry!"

The final lash was reluctantly pulled away.

"Are you?" Joshua's ragged breath stood up every single hair on his body. He had bled out on the sheets, could feel the smear of it sticky with precum under his calves. "If you are, I suppose that is nothing more to give than my forgiveness."

The sheets and blankets knocked up under his knees. Joshua prised his legs open, dragging his thumb down the shallow cut on Daniel's stomach.

Daniel's shudder shook him to his bones.

"Ask for it." Joshua unzipped himself. "Now."

"Please." Daniel's body was knotted with discomfort, twisted like seaside taffy. The belt that tethered him had cut ridges into his hands. "Please, please. God, Joshua..."

"Do not call our Lord's name in this act, Daniel." His tone had softened, as if he had beaten the violence out of himself. "I will give you what you want. Do not add another transgression to the list. I have been patient enough."

Joshua guided himself into Daniel, the intimacy of the act gentled by the previous _spirited_ activity. He rocked Daniel hard, kissing his neck and face and biting the skin tautened between his neck and shoulder. Daniel did not last long, neither did Joshua, as the weeks had crept on them both.

Joshua unbound his hands and opened his arms for Daniel to fall into. Daniel slotted inside him, exhausted. Joshua nosed his hairline and roughly stroked the tuft at the back of his neck. He retrieved a slim silver box from the bedside cabinet and selected a cigarette. Daniel sleepily tsked at the snatch of his lighter.

"You said smoking was a pollution of the body." He rested his head in the curve of his elbow. Sleeping was no good. Poor Moses still needed his evening walk.

"I said that to Bill." Smoke bloomed from Joshua's mouth, spilling over the sheets. "His health is poor."

"And you are...?"

Joshua chuckled and offered the cigarette to Daniel. He took a drag, enjoying the burn in his throat. Tasted like the city.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Joshua caressed the small of his back, forefingers feeling the bruises. "You're marked."

"Yes." Daniel pulled away, for the prodding had begun to wander, and he swung his feet to the floor. Downstairs, Moses was whining loudly. If he carried his furry self to the top stair, he would be under the sink tonight. "Nothing. You rest, I've got to take Moses out."

"Hm." Joshua smoked his single cigarette as Daniel got dressed. Then, quietly, he added; "The dog does have access to the garden, Daniel."

"He needs exercise."

Joshua stubbed the cigarette out on the porcelain ashtray on the sideboard. He hadn't yet left the bed. Even as sore as he was, Daniel couldn't quite work the shiver out of his walk as he neared the door.

"If you need to take a sandwich to work tomorrow..." He bundled his shirt into the dirty laundry. "I can..."

The bed was empty.

"Daniel..." Joshua's breath thrummed across his shoulder. Daniel held his breath, pushed his palms against Joshua's scarred chest, which was warm with sex and sheets. "I've missed you."

"I..." Daniel slid his fingers into Joshua's hair, kissing him breathless. "Okay, I'll..."

Joshua unzipped him with a growl, the hand shoved down his jeans leaving nothing to the imagination.

"...let him out! I'll let him out."

"Good." Joshua relaxed and kissed him. "Be quick. If you can walk downstairs with ease, that is." 

As Daniel hobbled down the stairs, he realised Moses's whines had quietened, for instead, he heard the low burr of a voice punctuated by Moses's excited yips.

Arthur was helping himself to a second slice of raspberry cake, a cigarette stuck out of his lip and a muddy Moses sprawled adoring at his feet.

"Oh." He gestured with his fork as a way of greeting. The rain had fuzzed his red pleats, so they stuck out wild, haloed around his glowing cheeks. "How are you? Terrible weather, but this cake made the trip worth it. This is delicious, Daniel. Really outdone yourself."

His eyes traced Daniel up and back again, his smile becoming mischievous. Daniel coughed and stood behind the table, angling his lower body toward the door.

"Last time I checked, our bell was working fine," He sighed at the paw prints across the floor. "You let Moses out for us. Oh, and help yourself."

"Really?" Arthur squeezed out his shirt. "That's so Christian of you, Daniel. Why I bet they're serving these by the barrel in the mission, huh?"

Daniel blinked, the taunt - which was not unusual for Arthur - popping the satisfaction that sex and food had been cultivating in the bottom of his stomach. He was never angry at Arthur, even if it was always easy to be, but a discontent crept up to his throat, made him feel mildly sick.

"What do you want?" It caught him raw. Arthur raised an eyebrow and brushed the crumbs from his chin. Moses paced between them, nervous.

"To see Joshua, actually." The plate was placed on the table. He hadn't lost his smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Granted you're not busy, that is. Been a while since you saw each other. Hard for newlyweds, really."

They had been married for a year. Arthur had stood at the back of the church with Stanley, who had fussed his tie the whole time. They had few friends in Boston, and Arthur adopted anyone who would buy him a drink. As to speak of the devil, the play in the bedroom rewound in Daniel's head. To dispel the thought, he brushed past Arthur to the garden door, where Moses gratefully bounded free. The rain slashed the sky and streets of colour. He could see a child place a pumpkin in the house opposite. Joshua would dislike that. He hated Halloween.

"He'd just come back from Boston." Daniel cleaned Arthur's plate away. The rest of the cake was stored back in the fridge. Arthur stole a whip of cream with his thumb, sucking it slowly. Arousal and irritation soured Daniel further. "He's upstairs. It's been a tiring three weeks."

"Yes, oh yes!" Arthur waved his hands, as if yes, he understood. "All that trouble with Edward. Enough to give anyone a sleepless night."

He popped up at Daniel's shoulder as he was closing the fridge door, trapping him against it. 

"Hey, Daniel," He prompted, low, as if they were dealing chems in a back alley. Daniel scoffed. "Have you heard anything about it? Joshua's awful quiet about it. It's..."

"None of your concern and Joshua has been certain to make it none of mine." Daniel gently fought himself free. Arthur tutted and tapped his fingers on the fridge, then made a great show of reading their magnets. Daniel's, mostly, with Utah and Zion Valley and a frame of puppy Moses and Joshua asleep on the couch. "As I said, he's tired."

"Know better than to question him, hm?" Arthur nodded, so understanding. "Very dutiful of you, very holy. The biggest thing you can do, in celestial marriage. But this is a big thing, Daniel. A really big thing. Bigger than me and you and even adorable Moses." 

He held up the Moses and Joshua picture with a pout.

"Can I keep this?" He spoke. "It's adorable."

"Arthur..." Daniel swiped it out of his hands. "Can you explain exactly what you want?"

"Joshua." He propped the fridge open with his foot. "You. Cake. Stanley in leather. Not in that order, mind you."

"Arthur..."

"Just a few questions. One, two, three. That's all. You can even time me."

"Arthur..."

"Please." Arthur's face fell slightly. "I wouldn't have trudged here in the rain if it wasn't important."

Daniel sighed.

"I'll tell him, but it's on your head."

"And I'm really hungry. Hey, is that Mormon cuisine? Marriage Potatoes? Isn't that supposed to be terrible for you?"

"Funeral potatoes, Arthur. It's a classic dish in Utah, and it's only eaten in small quantities."

"Funeral potatoes? That fits Joshua down to the ground, right?"

Daniel's temper faltered. He snuck out a tiny laugh and Arthur visibly brightened. He reached into the oven and cut him a slice of the bake, propping into the microwave to heat it.

Arthur chattered animatedly as Daniel served it to him. Upstairs, there was a resounding silence and Daniel wondered if Joshua had fallen asleep.

"Did I mention you're a great cook?" Arthur said between each spoonful. It was apparent he was starving. Daniel felt another pang of guilt. "Now, if I could have this with beans. Beans spilt by your dominant leather bible other, that'd be great."

Daniel stood by the garden; a towel hung over his arm for when Moses would eventually appear. Arthur seemed engrossed in his meal, and in the breaks between his speeches Daniel's mind begun to wander, shamble back to that great grey city with all the secrets and salivations he had been denied.

"Arthur..." He sat down opposite the man, who primly dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "Can you explain to me what is happening? If there is something, anything...."

Arthur lit a cigarette and fixed him a quizzical look.

"Hasn't darling Joshua filled you in?"

"No." Daniel crossed his arms. Moses padded in, dribbling mud and water over the floor and nudged the towel with his nose. "At least, he hasn't told me."

He should be happy with that. It was in the vows they had exchanged, what Joshua had breathed into his skin as they lay tangled in bed with breath a mutual caress between them. But somehow, it felt wrong. The mild pressures of anxiety he had kept locked began to click loose, scrambling his peace of mind. 

"Well." Smoke billowed from Arthur's nose and mouth, as he scratched at his temple with a ragged nail. A modern plague on their clean, orderly kitchen. Daniel had not yet decided what plague he would be. Not locusts, even if he ate everything in sight. "He is lying, Daniel. I'm not gonna sit here and pretend to uphold the sanctity of whatever the fuck you two agreed on."

Moses, covered in the towel, snuffled Daniel's hand. He stood and put Arthur's plate in the sink. He felt stiff, awkward as if he didn't belong in the kitchen, in the street, in the suburbs. Arthur swore lightly, balanced his cigarette between his teeth and shadowed Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel caught his gaze in the reflection of the window.

"Tell me." He said. "I want to know."

Arthur's moony sage eyes were greyed in the centre from the stormy light. He looked straight at him, without pity.

"Edward Sallow is a corrupt politician with a kill count that is rising every day," He said flatly. "Joshua Graham is working on equal hands with him behind the scenes to put Sallow in power. He's data mining the Missions to get information about new citizens and imprisoning those who qualify with a bad record to get the incarceration rates up, so he can fill the Government's quota to keep himself in power and up him in the eyes of the public. They are dangerous men, and this isn't easy..." He strained on the final word as Daniel stared at him, sick. "...because I care about you, and Joshua. Hell, I love Joshua, but even Bill is having second thoughts, prising away from his two best friends and I know Bill..." 

Moses whined, discomfited, and sped off to greet somebody at the entrance.

Joshua stood in the doorframe. His white vest was tucked tightly into his work trousers, his hand strongly splayed on the door as if preventing escape. It was as if gravity had crumbled his face, dragging all the emotion into a black mist where only his eyes, visible, sparked, alert and dangerous.

"Arthur." He purred. Daniel rose quickly, seized Moses by the collar and urged him into the laundry room. His legs were shaking. "I didn't know we had company."

"Joshua!" Arthur opened his arms. "I was waiting for you. Had a nice kip, did you? Hard work keeping all the little people down. Well, I was just saying to your very handsome husband..."

The chair screeched back as Arthur leapt. Daniel shot between them; his palms braced on Joshua's shoulders. Joshua relented at his presence, but Daniel could see the force trembling in his bare arms. 

"You were not invited."

"Daniel always said I was welcome."

"You were always one for assumptions, Arthur." Daniel quivered as Joshua laid a possessive hand on his waist, his breath hot on his cheek. He could smell the cigarette smoke. Moses cried from behind the ;aundry door. "You walk into my house, discredit me to my husband, in matters of character and faith, and expect to be welcomed into my home? That is naive even for you, Arthur."

"Ah!" Arthur stuck up a hand. "And unto him that smiteth thee on the _one_ cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not _to take thy_ coat also. Luke 6:29. Thought I'd brush up on the good book, darling Joshua, as you must have been neglecting it of late."

It took everything Daniel had to hold Joshua's rush of rage, a snarl that broke from him like a wild beast. Arthur took a laconic step back and lit another cigarette. 

"Joshua." Daniel swallowed hard. He stepped back, still holding onto his husband's shoulders, and looked him in the face. "Is Arthur telling the truth?"

Joshua blinked at Daniel as if remembering he was there, and on his face passed shadows of thought and speech until Daniel turned away, back to the sink.

"I think I'm going to pack a few things." He said quietly, to both of them and to himself, he couldn't credit. "I'm taking Moses, and I'm staying with a friend for a few days."

"Wise choice," quipped Arthur. "I recommend Utah. It's lovely this time of year."

"Shut your mouth!" Joshua barked at Arthur, but a weakness was spreading in his voice. With extreme control, he calmly turned to Daniel. "Stay. He is a journalist, Daniel. A filthy liar who looks to defame anyone who doesn't subscribe to his sordid existence."

"Sordid or not, it's honest." Arthur swung his satchel over his shoulder., pushing his fizzy hair over his head with hands cracked and sore from the cold. He had walked a long way. "And forget the questions. I'll be wasting my time. You answered them as soon as you walked in."

Collecting himself, he stalked to the door, before he hesitated, and looked over his shoulder to Daniel. 

"I'm sorry, Daniel." He said. "All shitty wise ass cracks aside, this is terrible for you. Don't wait. Get out. Take your cute dog with you."

The door slammed, and then came the silence.

Moses squeezed his body through the door and scurried to Daniel's side, trying to comb his fur through Daniel's unresponsive hand. 

There came an ungodly splintering as Joshua stamped his foot through Arthur's chair. Wood and plush broke beneath his boot, his composure fixed and awful.

Then, he looked up at Daniel, who watched him silently from the door.

"It's a lie," He hissed.

"Is it?" Daniel said sharply. "Because I've never seen you like this. For a lie, it cuts you in half. Makes you vulnerable, makes it easy for him."

The grand shoulders fell.

"He disgraced me."

"And by this display, you haven't disgraced yourself?"

"I..." Joshua looked lost, and suddenly old. He glanced down at the broken chair, at Moses cowered and crying behind Daniel's legs, and then, at Daniel. His face creased, before a strange composure came over him, so effortless it would have chilled Daniel if not for Joshua's arms opening to him. "I forgot myself. It has been stressful, these weeks. I have missed you, Daniel."

_Missed me._

Daniel wavered, tried to keep the heat of Arthur's words stark in his mind, but Joshua's exhaustion and his own heavy heart made him flee to him, made him kiss his face and neck and cling for dear life.

"A lie," Joshua repeated, his spare hand stroking Moses's upturned head. The hypnotic drone was almost effective in dulling Daniel's doubts, if not for the memory of Joshua's face and the cut of Arthur's words, burrowing like a weevil in the back of his brain. "A lie. I am your husband, you are mine. We honour each other, in God's holy law."

He kissed Daniel's brow in the dark kitchen.

The doubt bloomed anew.


End file.
